


I’ll Be Yours If You’ll Be Mine

by fidusachates



Series: We're Partners Forever, right? [8]
Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Adding tags as I go along, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternative Meeting, Cats, College, Eventual Hanamura Yosuke/Persona 4 Protagonist, F/F, Hypothermia, M/M, YUMI'S FAMILY OWNS THE CAFE, alt yosuke, i dont really know how people hire people to play music for them???, im planning on adding a lot of npc social links lol, minor and eventual yumi/rise, slowburn, so i just guessed hhhhh, souji has a little gremlin cat called maru and its the cutest shit ever, souji is confused about his sexuality, souyo - Freeform, sun and moon imagery, whereas yosuke is confident in his, yosk kinda plays his guitar in the cold and almost passes out like an idiot, yosk wears funky coloured socks and cool earrings :), yosuke also busks in a local coffee shop, yosuke does music, yosuke is pretty much married to his guitar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fidusachates/pseuds/fidusachates
Summary: Souji meets a boy in a coffee shop, and it throws him into a whirlwind of adventure.—————i have playlist 4 this fic go go go https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40VBqTkym1nymFNRdnomCy?si=okDCxrpkRraEyHXQewmsug
Relationships: Hanamura Yosuke/Narukami Yu, Hanamura Yosuke/Persona 4 Protagonist, Hanamura Yosuke/Seta Souji
Series: We're Partners Forever, right? [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131050
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Souji meets a boy; and he can’t stop staring.

Despite the shining sun, it was still cold. The bitter wind bit at Souji’s fingertips through his gloves. _Perfect weather for coffee_ , he mused as he pulled his jacket around him tighter and picked up his pace, taking in the sight of the Tokyo suburb. He didn’t appreciate the temperature; too cold for spring yet too warm for winter - it was the time of year where it was between seasons and everything seemed to stand still for a _long_ time.

Souji stepped into the familiar coffee shop that he’d been visiting ever since his first day there. The warm atmosphere would probably melt away the imaginary icicles that nipped at the end of his fingers, and he felt at peace as the door shut. The soothing music rang in his ears and he breathed in the sharp scent of pine and coffee, sighing happily. He loved spending time here as much as he did his apartment.

As he ordered his coffee and settled down in a familiar seat, Souji gave himself some time to appreciate his surroundings as always. The dark walnut-coloured booths and tables mixed well with the pale green walls decorated with stereotypical coffee slogans and wall art. Green plants hung from the ceiling and sat on mahogany shelves, budding bright and growing tall. The coffee bar was a nice sleek white, accompanied by a black chalkboard on the front listing the products with some cute stickers and doodles in the corners. A refrigerator hummed softly in the background, providing comfort and noise.

Souji’s apartment was a lot more modern and minimalistic than the rustic café he found himself sitting in almost daily. He started wishing he'd bring some life into his room, the empty shelves and bookcases begging him to be filled with plants and flowers. It was merely a passing thought, considering his cute little kitty would probably eat the leaves, or knock them over.

Everything was the same as always: the furniture, same friendly staff, same rotation of items on the menu. Well, almost everything, the music was definitely different. As soon as he realised this, the grey-haired student let his gaze wander a little further than usual in hopes of finding the source - and there he was.

A boy, probably of similar age to him, was strumming his guitar and singing something that barely registered in his brain. Souji let his eyes wander over the performer, taking in his almost chaotic appearance. Earrings that hung from his ears glinted in the warm lighting, a few loose strands of long auburn hair fell over his face, framing it perfectly. The rest of it was pulled back into a bun, part of an undercut that somehow looked both professionally done and self-cut. An oversized blue hoodie with bunched up sleeves hung on the boy’s body with a white shirt poking out underneath, the drawstrings tied into a neat bow.

And Souji couldn’t stop staring. The cozy lights and atmosphere seemed to make the boy glow, and pull his attention only to him. His eyes finally dropped away from the other’s face and to his guitar, watching his fingers pluck and strum the strings. He wondered how an instrument like that could make such gorgeous sounds, which complimented the singing, and so he watched and listened and silently sipped his coffee, sometimes adventuring onto his phone to check mundane things.

Then Souji left, finally allowing the blush to rise up his face. He breathed out a heavy sigh accompanied with a sad smile and the crossing thought that he’d probably never see that boy again.

But man, was Souji wrong. He didn’t expect to be returning later that week to the same, familiar tunes that made his ears buzz and a light blush appear on his face. He also didn’t expect to be _making eye contact_ with said boy; almost spurting out his drink in embarrassment at being caught staring. 

He didn’t expect it, but he was so glad he welcomed it.

“Hey,” and there was the aforementioned performer, standing nervously with a hand in his front pocket and the other holding his guitar case, wrists buried in oversized sleeves, “I, uh, saw you watching me play earlier. Do you mind if I sit with you? I’m kinda finished for now, don’t have any more songs to play…”

Souji blinked, “Oh yeah, sure. Go ahead,” he smiled, brushing his bangs out of his face. “Sorry if I was staring too much, o-or whatever…” the student was pretty sure he was blushing, hard, and that the really awesome guitarist would be creeped out--

“Oh no, it’s fine! Honestly, I’m kinda used to it,” the other had taken a seat, offering him a kind smile. He’d leaned his guitar case on the side of the table and gave it a gentle pat, “This bad boy is usually the reason why.”

“Ah, I see,” Souji nodded, taking a sip from his drink. The auburn-haired boy looked like he was shining; the warm lights only fuelling the fire. “Do you perform here often?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Over the winter I have, it’s been too cold to do it outside, so the owner invited me in and she’s let me busk here. It’s a really nice place,” he smiled again, curling his hands into a small ball. Souji wished he could hold them, and then blushed at the thought. “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet! I’m Yosuke Hanamura, I go to the Karogami College nearby and I’m studying music,” Yosuke smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Souji Seta. I also go to Karogami, and I’m studying astronomy,” Souji introduced himself, a small smile on his face - he was desperately trying to mask the sheer happiness he’d gotten from seeing that smile, his stomach burning with curiosity. “Do you live on campus?”

Yosuke nodded, humming. “Yeah, in Block E.”

“Cool, I’m in Block D. We’re not too far from each other, I wonder how we’ve never met or come across each other in the halls?” the grey-haired student pondered, swirling his drink. He bounced his knee restlessly: he _knew_ the exact reason why they’d never met before -- his anxiety often won over, especially for the most trivial of reasons. He was sick of it, but it was overwhelming and sometimes never worth fighting.

Yosuke shrugged, shooting him a smile and a wink, “We probably just miss each other at the wrong times. I wake up any time between 5am and 4pm, so it’s give or take whether we’ll end up meeting in the corridors,” he chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

Souji laughed softly, drinking the last of his coffee. He swept his hair out of his eyes, humming whatever song came to his head.

“You like my music, huh?”

“Hm? Oh-- _oh_ ,” he blushed, looking down at the bottom of his mug. His cheeks flushed a deep red and embarrassment burned in his stomach - he’d been caught humming a song by the guy who wrote it! “I- yeah, it’s good, I guess,” Souji quipped teasingly with a light smile.

“ _Only_ good?” the brunet asked, pouting. He brushed a longer strand of his hair behind his ear, “You _guess_? Wow, what kind of artist am I when I get comments like this from my fans…”

“Who says I’m a fan?” Souji smirked, checking his phone and almost shooting up in a panic. “I have classes in a few minutes, so I should go…”

At this, Yosuke looked… sad. It pulled at Souji’s heartstrings and quelled the urge to sit straight back down and order himself another coffee - but alas, a man must work. “Okay, no problem. I’ll see you around, Seta,” Yosuke said with a smile and waved lightly, almost dismissively, then found his way to the counter with guitar case in hand.

Accompanied with a “Bye, Yosuke”, Souji left the café and pulled his jacket around him tightly. He felt lightweight and like he was floating, his heart thudding fast and drumming loudly in his chest and his ears. His cheeks were still red and hot even when he arrived back at his apartment ( _after dropping by the shop, so he must’ve still been scarlet during that time_ ), so he loudly cursed the musician’s name as he set the cat food down.

He reached over and absentmindedly petted his cat, humming the tune that Yosuke had played in the café. “Hey Maru— ow, what was that for?!” Souji hissed at his cat, pulling his hand away sharply. “You gremlin,” he muttered, sighing lightly as the Japanese Bobtail licked his hand in apology. The grey-haired boy picked his kitten up, burying his face in her fur as he made his way to his desk.

Souji sat down and let Maru get comfortable on his lap. Then, he buried himself in his work, listening to her soft purring and remembering the sweet feeling of his name on Yosuke’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAHHHH WELCOME TO MY COLLEGE AU BRAINROT!!!! IM SO. 🥲🥲🥲🥲 .
> 
> I hope u enjoy reading!! let me know what you think :D hopefully this will be updated frequently, and i actually end up finishing it. 
> 
> i’ll be pushing myself past my boundaries with this multi-chapter fic, including planning, editing and proofreading AND pushing myself to write longer and more dialogue-filled chapters with characters i’m not totally sure on how to write.


	2. It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yosuke finds himself in a sweet little café after a close confrontation with... hypothermia?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for mentions of blood at the beginning and briefly at the end.

Yosuke remembered when he first held a guitar. He was young, maybe 7 or 8, and his mom had picked one up at a local thrift store; a birthday present which turned out to be one of the things he’d never let go.

The guitar was incredibly big: his toddler hands were unable to reach across even half the fret, and the strings felt strange and made his hands smell weird. His mother stowed it away in a closet somewhere, bought him a smaller one for his age, and then accompanied him to guitar lessons, buying him snacks and tousling his hair as they left the building.

Yosuke wondered if his mom would be proud of him now, bunking off school to busk downtown in the middle of winter; playing until his hands were raw and hot, the nylon strings and white wood covered in his blood. He kept playing until he could no longer hold his pick, hands quivering and voice edged with pain.

He’d also been rushed inside a small comforting café, dazed, cold and confused. Yosuke barely even registered that his hands had been bandaged up nicely and a steaming cup of hot chocolate was in his face. “Hey, drink up guitar boy.”

“...Huh? O-oh, thanks,” the musician tried to flex his fingers, flinching a little at the pain that sparked . “Where’s my…”

“It’s over here!” A small, young-looking girl chirped from his right, worry etched in her eyes. She was sitting on a barstool, her legs crossed tightly. “I cleaned it for you, I hope that’s okay…”

“Yeah, that’s— fine,” Yosuke murmured, his throat scratching painfully, blinking and looking around. The heated blanket on his shoulders had helped clear his head from the cold, his hands no longer shaking and stained red.

The table was a dark brown, the colour stretching from the tables and seats to the bar, the colour looking comforting as a contrast to the green walls. The booth he was sitting in was soft, and the world had begun to spin, so Yosuke closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool window. This place was warm, and he could just sleep here…

“Hey, you should drink up. You don’t look so hot,” the girl who had served him said, gently tapping his arm. “It’s cold out there, you shouldn’t have been playing outside.”

Yosuke rolled his eyes open, gingerly lifting the hot drink to his lips. It was scalding in his mouth, but it certainly made the foggy feeling inside his head dissipate. “I need the money,” he grumbled, looking at the bandages on his fingers, “And I don’t need a lecture from somebody I don’t know.”

“Look, you almost collapsed from the cold and you were bleeding all over your guitar. I’d barely call this a lecture,” the barista couldn’t help but hiss, and Yosuke finally looked at her. Her lips were pursed in concern. “I’m Yumi Ozawa, and the girl that cleaned your guitar is Ayane Matsunaga. My family runs this place, you usually busk outside. You’re pretty talented!”

Yosuke blinked, registering everything she had said. “T-thanks, Yumi-san… I’m Yosuke- Hanamura. Thanks for helping me, I probably would’ve kept going, haha.”

“You certainly were acting like it! We’d been watching for a while, and I had started begging Senpai to let you in because you were bleeding on your guitar and you also weren’t shivering anymore. And then you kinda just, stopped playing and it looked like you were gonna faint, so here you are now!” The girl on the barstool, Ayane, spoke up, a bright smile on her face as she spoke.  _ Certainly a contrast to the situation _ , Yosuke mused to himself.

“Hehe… yeah… I tend to go pretty hard on the busking,” He scratched the back on his neck anxiously, biting his lip. “I’m not gonna be able to play until my fingers are fixed up, am I?” Yosuke sighed heavily, exhaustion setting in.

“Probably not,” Yumi affirmed, squeezing herself out of the booth. “I’ll be right back,” she excused herself, disappearing behind the bar into a back room.

Yosuke mumbled something jumbled and closed his eyes, resting on the window again. The drink was cooler now, and the heated blanket was hot and the café was cozy warm,  _ and I could just pass out here _ …

He thought about his last party and how good it felt to just let loose and allow the pressure of school to roll off his shoulders. Yosuke remembered feeling the bass of the heavier and EDM songs in his bones, the volume finally drowning the thoughts in his mind out. He’d need to throw another one, mainly to relax, but also to potentially find somebody he could  _ vibe _ with; most of the people he'd met were just blurs in his memory.

“Hey, Hanamura,” Yumi had returned, knocking him out of his reverie. She was standing with an older woman, her black apron stained with flour and dirty blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Ayane watched quietly, drumming her fingers on the back of her phone.

“Mm?”

“My mom wants to speak to you...” Yumi started, trailing off when the owner slid in the booth across from Yosuke.

“Oh, sure,” Yosuke sat up straight, blinking away his spinning world, “H-how can I help, Matsu-san?”

And it took him a second. “Shit- th-thats not it— I- I mean Ozawa-san,” Yosuke blabbered, a bright red blush rising up his face. “I’m so sorry, I—“

Yumi’s mother simply laughed, gently patting his bandaged hand, “Don’t worry about it, Hanamura-kun. I was wondering, based on what Yumi has told me, if you’d like to busk here in the café? It’s warm and quiet, but we get quite a few customers in here that enjoy the type of music you play. Plus, it’s safer here."

Yosuke’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe his ears; the only thing that was going through his mind was  _ holy shit, holy shit, holy fuck— _ “Are you sure? Do I need to pay you or a-anything?”

“No, no, of course not!” She shot him a smile, “I’d rather you have a safe and warm place to play than be out in the streets where anything could happen. You can have drinks on the house as you play and keep what you earn.”

“T-Thank you, Ozawa-san, I really appreciate that…”

Yumi’s mother shook his hand, then slid out of the booth. “I hope to see you again when your hand heals, Hanamura.”

After she disappeared into the back, Yosuke blinked and finally registered what the hell had just happened.  _ He had a job— no, he was a volunteer—  _ he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was, so he simply settled as an ‘artist playing in a local café’ and left it at that.

Yosuke returned a week later, hand healed (enough to play) and guitar properly cleaned. He was glad for the safety of the café, as the temperatures had shot low around mid-winter - he definitely would’ve frozen out there. He earned enough, maybe a little more, and made friends with his colleagues.

And then he met  _ him _ .

The quiet, shy boy in the back of the shop was watching him play — it was a little off-putting, the feeling close to making his skin crawl, but Yosuke had become pretty accustomed to it over his years of playing for an audience.

He remembered the first time he busked; it was downtown in Okina when he’d just turned 17. Okina was much more of a busy place than the little town of Inaba, more people to play for meant that he’d earn more money. And he did, his pockets often jingling with coins and several ¥1000 notes. Sometimes he’d come home on the train, exhausted and fingers aching, though content with his earnings.

Playing in Tokyo was similar; he got to meet people much like himself and mysterious people like the blushing mess of a stranger hanging around the back of the café that he’d been unable to keep his eyes wandering to.

Then the boy left the shop, the bell above the door pulling him back from his memories and ringing chidingly within his head. 

And so Yosuke waited. He played diligently for a few hours every couple of days, even hanging out at the café (on days where school got too much and playing was too exhausting) with his colleagues in hopes of stumbling across the stranger he’d so wished to meet.

“Hey,” Yosuke somehow found himself standing at the grey-haired stranger’s table, cringing a little at his startled reaction. “Do you mind if I sit here?” He smiled at him, watching the other’s face relax with a returned smile. “I’ve finished for now, don’t have any more songs to play.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

The brunet set his guitar case against the table and sat across the boy. The conversation was light and natural, the two flowing off of each other. That was, until Yosuke remembered he hadn’t introduced himself — embarrassment punched him in the gut; he hadn’t even done what he set out to do, let alone introduce himself to somebody he’d taken a seat across from.

“I haven’t introduced myself yet! I’m Yosuke Hanamura,” he flushed a light pink, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling shyly. Something changed in the other’s expression, but he couldn’t pin down what it was exactly.

“Souji Seta,” the grey-eyed boy responded, his smile bright. It made Yosuke’s heart drum in his chest and his stomach flutter. 

Then they talked, and Yosuke couldn’t stop staring. Souji’s eyes remained hidden, almost guarded, under his grey bangs. He was dressed very smart, a black collared shirt with a loose red tie. His jacket was long enough to cover about half of his hands, and looked incredibly comfortable. Yosuke was pretty sure he never took his eyes off the other for the whole exchange.

When Souji announced he had to leave, he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. The question of asking for his number sat on his tongue, gnawing away inside of him. Instead, he waved with a sad smile and a dismissive, “I’ll see you around, Seta.”

And then he was alone, flustered and at the hands of Rise, who doted on him with sarcasm embedded deep in her voice. “Aww, poor you, not getting the cute boy’s number! I wonder if you’ll see him again…”

“I don’t wanna hear it right now, Risette,” Yosuke mumbled into his palm, sighing. “I was just about to ask him, but I couldn’t, like, get the words out! Nothing came out!”

Rise smiled at him, her sarcasm melting away. “It’s okay, senpai. You’ll get it one day. He’s a student, right?”

“Yeah, but we’ve both been here for months and we haven’t come across each other yet,” the brunet groaned, resting his forehead on the counter. 

The volunteer frowned. “Hmm… hey, I know! Maybe he’ll start hanging around the skatepark when it gets warmer? It’s a pretty popular spot, so he might be around there in the spring,” she suggested. “In the meantime, though, we could go see a movie later. There’s this romance one playing after work we could go see?”

Yosuke pondered the idea briefly. “You’re  _ really _ gonna take me to see a romance film? After I’ve just met the cutest guy I’ve ever known?”

“Even cuter than Kanji?” Rise quipped, laughing when he shot her daggers.

“Shut it.”

“Sorry, but it’s funny! Also, yes I am serious. Is that a problem, senpai, or would you rather sulk by yourself thinking about something in the past that you can’t fix?” Rise raised her eyebrows, pushing her hair over her shoulders. She readjusted her shirt, drumming her fingers on the countertop.

Yosuke sighed into his arms, bouncing his leg. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll go with you to the movies, when does it start?”

“In 2 hours.”

Yosuke hummed, “I think I’ll be free. I’m gonna go change and take my guitar back, and we’ll meet here?”

Rise smiled, genuine and bright. “Sure, senpai. I’ll see you then!”

“See you, Risette.”

As Yosuke stepped outside into the cold, clutching his case close, he finally let himself mull over what had happened that day. He crossed the road to his student apartment, deep in thought about the guy he’d met.

Little did he know that Souji Seta would throw him into a world he’d never have expected, even less for it to have stemmed from playing his guitar until he was bleeding and numb.


End file.
